


Dear you [wish]

by orphan_account



Category: Higurashi no Naku Koro ni | Higurashi When They Cry
Genre: Angst, Crush, F/F, Short Stories, Unrequited Love, collection of oneshots, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-06-01 00:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15131333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mion has always been Rena’s most dearest friend—-but deep down, Rena’s heart aches for more





	1. Meaningless

The vivacious Mii-chan who was her precious, irreplaceable, dearest friend...was sobbing over the phone. Rena managed to partly figure out the reason even before Mion told her.  
Keiichi had been insensitive.  
Rena liked Keiichi-kun a whole bunch, he was one of her best friends, and so many things had brightened up for everyone when he had moved in. But he absolutely had an oblivious, insensitive nature to him. He was always so rash when speaking or making any action.  
How could he not recognize Mii-Chan’s feelings?  
..it’s as if he intends to throw them aside, like they didn’t matter...  
But...they matter to me.  
"Even he agreed when I said that I should've been born a guy...hic...he agreed...I may be rather tomboyish   
but...I have feelings too...he always tramples on them...hic..."  
It pained Rena as well just to hear her friend's sorrow and crying, her voice almost too croaky to speak. She wanted to give the boy a piece of her mind...but she knew that Mii-chan would want him to understand on his own. Most people would. That didn't mean she couldn't hint to him and press him to figure out quickly before Mion was hurt even more, however.  
She would have to let him see it on his own. That’s what Mion would’ve wanted, anyway.   
Would he ever? Or would he forget it ever even happened, only hurting her more?  
It was so unfair...  
Everyone could be a little insensitive to Mion because of the acts she put up a lot, but that wasn't her fault. Rena could see when her friend had been hurt at least, even if only slightly. She cared too much for Mion to let this go on...it was a bit funny to her really, how someone like her, who was so hesitant to trust and open up to others, believed in Mii-chan so much...  
Something about Mion back when they had first met...shined to her. She had taken a liking to her quickly, and they were such close friends in no time. In fact, it really warmed Rena's heart how she was the first person Mion went to for things as well...if they both understood each other deeply, that made Rena happy enough.  
Rena continued to encourage and comfort her friend, happy to hear her sobs and sniffs begin to diminish. She assured Mion that she wasn't wrong at all for being upset, and that Keiichi would surely realize his wrong doings...but she also told Mion that she had to be honest too.  
But that all...gave Rena a slight feeling of guilt, especially when she considered offering Mion the doll that she really had no use for and didn't care for as much as Mii-chan...but she didn't.   
Because...she knew...it would only ever mean anything from Keiichi-kun.


	2. Wishing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She couldn’t stop dwelling on it. Nothing seemed to ever be able to make her stop.

It was sort of an expected kind of scenario. A girl meets a girl, she falls for her, learns she likes a boy, heartbroken, and so on. The "so on" is usually a choice of two things. Move on or stay hooked. Rena Ryuugu chose the latter.  
Here she was, sitting in the now organised abandoned van with her legs against her chest and her head hanging low. It was already getting sunset, so the lamp was lit and ready to shine through the darkness.  
Rena had her eyes closed, already tired of being so depressed about her feelings. It really has come to the point where she stayed up at an ungodly time of the night to think, sometimes even cry. She didn't feel like doing any of that though, she just needed her own little personal space.  
She was uncertain how long she's been in there now. It was as if time sped by so quickly just so Rena can go back being a happy girl the next day. Time is just a bully. She hated it, but it's not like she planned to leave anytime soon. She told her dad ahead of time that she was going to be late so he wouldn't have to worry.  
Rena let her thoughts run wild, wanting to forget her need for affection from a certain someone, yet they always came back to her. Her long, green hair, her matching eyes, her boyish but cute smile. She loved it all. She was her embodiment of beautiful.  
She dreamt of being able to brush her soft, delicate hair and caress her smooth cheeks. They'd go out for picnics and feed each other sweets. Go to the movies and cry about the main characters dying love. Lay on the grass at a deserted spot with the clearest view in the sky and watch the stars together. All would make Rena quiver with happiness.  
But reality broke every bit of those dreams apart. She liked someone else, and it was the knew transfer student from the city. He was a nice boy, he teased Rena a lot and embarrassed her. They played games together and were overall really good friends, and that's what hurt her the most.  
Her crush was in love with one of her dearest friends. The dearest friend that helped her with her problems at home. The one she fell for for a short time, too, until she had a good look at her current crush again.  
Rena had absolutely no idea what she had to do next. She still had time to let go, but how? If she told anyone, they'd think of her as trash. Liking a woman while being a woman wasn't natural, the elderly says, especially the head of the village. Homosexuality was not welcome in the village of Hinamizawa.  
The orange-haired girl felt absolutely hopeless. Spreading her legs out, she sighed. How long would these feelings last? A couple of weeks? Years? Maybe she was exaggerating. Maybe these feeling would pass as soon as they arrived.  
It was dark now, she hadn't realized it until she opened her eyes again and the lamp's fire was blaring. each of the little comfort toys she had in this broken automobile was dark and tinted with the orange hue of the heat. She was still in her school uniform, and tomorrow was the weekend.  
Rena looked through one of the tiny windows the van had.  
"The stars are beautiful tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

The curls of late summer moved through the breezy day with all the languid sweetness of a flower's perfume, whose presence did not invade, but pulled on the sleeve of consciousness like a shy child. The grass, the trees, the moss growing on the occasional rocks peeking out of the river, seemed especially green that day, even though a good rain had not come since very early in July. The river itself seemed to be more lively than usual. If someone were to follow its course, they would find that it chattered and babbled and perhaps even roared (if they went far enough upstream and listened while they dangled their legs over the edge of the bridge) the entire way, happily engaging everything in a one-sided conversation.

It was the kind of day that I had only heard of in fairy tales. I sincerely believe that if someone were depressed before stepping out into the gentle sunlight, they wouldn't be once they closed their front door and felt the warmth on their face.

Perhaps that's why I had the urge to confess on that particular day. The village endowed with heady euphoria, the relentless kind, quickened my heart and made it bolder, more honest, so that when I looked at her, leading her bike along with me down the road we took to school, I felt the confession rising in my chest, up my throat, and over my tongue to come tumbling out like a toddler attempting to perform a somersault.

"I love you."

I guess I felt very childish that day.

As those three words hung between us by the little mill, I felt the sudden need to brace myself against the handlebars of my bike. Tauntingly, beyond our little sphere of existence, the sun crept steadily along the arc of the sky; a train of ants marched in and out of the knee-high grass; a gust of wind picked up, tousled our hair, and left the lingering scent of late lilies. But we, we became statues, gargoyles stranded in bright noon. Her face froze in between the motions of carefree happiness and the classic look of a deer being caught in the headlights. Behind her eyes, thoughts flickered about as if trying to piece together what I had said, what it meant, and what she should do. That look scared me.

"Love?" she asked. Choked out, rather. She too supported herself on her handlebars because her knees didn't seem to have any will left to support her.

I averted my eyes from hers, for shame made my eyes cloud with tears.

What should I say? Should I lie and tell her that I had been joking and share a nervous laugh with her before we continued on to the club meeting? Should I tell her how I felt about her from the depths of my heart and risk it suffering another blow? Should I act as if I hadn't said anything and act worried? I don't know... But the smell of lilies in the air stirred my heart again, but it didn't chase the fear away.

"I–" I started, but it sounded more like a sob. She heard it too, and though she was uncomfortable, she moved a couple of centimeters closer as if to comfort me. "I – yeah, I... I said that."

Moments passed in near silence, only the breaths of ourselves and the wind easing through. Sometimes the creaking of the mill or the hesitant humming of the cicadas would answer. Her eyes fixed their gaze on me; I felt it on the side of my face as I pretended to be interested in the waving grass.

"Rena..." And she stopped there, rethinking her words probably, something she very rarely did. "Maybe we should sit down..."

We propped our bikes against the side of the mill and sat on the edge of the irrigation system, which broke of from the river about a kilometer upstream. She draped legs over the gurgling water and braced her heels against the opposite stone edge, while I simply crossed my legs and absentmindedly played with the grass about us.

Every now and then, she talked for a minute, trying to break the tension between us, but her idle words slid off the barrier of my silence, soon forgotten so that even an hour later we couldn't recall them. I wanted to talk, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. Not about random topics that, in the end, would get us nowhere. Every time she prepared herself to talk, my heart swelled in anticipation because that time she was finally going to reply to my confession instead of dancing this awkward waltz. But it deflated painfully when it became clear she was not addressing it. My heart started to ache the second time. By the fifth, it felt like most of my heart was gone.

I had enough of it.

"Mion, can we forget about what I said?" I asked, finally looking at her with a quivering resolution. "I can't win. You like Keiichi anyhow, right?"

"What does Keiichi have to do with this?" she asked.

"Well, it's hard not to notice how you feel about him, especially after he gave you that doll over a year ago. Even Satoko has begun to notice."

She turned bright red. "Are you jealous of that?"

"The only thing I'm jealous of is that I wasn't the one to give you that doll. If I had fought a little harder or stolen his idea, then I might've had a chance."

This time it was she who looked away, but not out of embarrassment. She seemed to be deep in thought, her eyes fixed on the ripples in the water below her legs, which cast strings of light on her jeans. Was she thinking about that day, remembering when he handed her that doll, or did she contemplate how she might have felt if I had given it to her. Was she wishing that I had never said those three seemingly fatal words. Curiosity gnawed at me as I watched her out of the corner of my eye.

My heart thumped in anxiety when she finally seemed to snap out of it. By then the sun had moved enough to touch the trees on the mountains. Straightening up, she took a deep breath and looked at me once again.

"I think I would've liked to get it from you," she said.

"What?"

"It would've meant a lot more coming from you. Keiichi wasn't going to keep it anyway, but if you had gotten it, I'd be surprised if you gave it to me since you like cute things so much."

The thumping in my chest seemed to grow louder. "But he could've easily given it to me since it really was cute." I sighed. It really was a cute doll.

"He probably thought that you had enough cute things. Besides..."

Suddenly, something soft and warm pressed against my lips, surprising me. She leaned into the kiss, eyes closed, hands braced on either side of me. Her kiss, which I had been to shy to dream about, seemed to be that for the mere moments that our lips touched that first time. When she pulled away, I was left to wonder if she had really kissed me, or if I had drifted off some time ago. But I tasted her on me and I could still feel the touch of her lips, so it must have been real.

"... Keiichi's just a dumb boy anyway," she said, a smile playing about her lips. Laughing gently, she helped me stand and pressed another kiss to my cheek, which lingered for a few teasing moments before dissolving away. "I'm willing to give this a try if you are."

Again, my heart felt swollen, but this time not with anxiety and seemingly misspent hope. Warmth, more soothing than the sun's, filled it and ran over so that my chest seemed too small to contain it all. I clung to her hand out of sheer nerves, maybe excitement. My voice seemed to be caught in my throat and with all my coaxing, it didn't seem to have the will to come out and answer her. Instead I nodded fervently and clutched her hand hoping, she'd get that I was happy, overwhelming happy, insanely happy.

A wider smile graced her face, one of those insanely charming, yet mischievous smiles that I often thought about, and she nodded down the road, where we had been heading what seemed hours before.

"The others may be worried. Perhaps we should go on to club before all hell breaks loose?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice finally deciding to work once again. "Let's go."

We mounted our bikes and took to the road again.

The day had returned to it's blissful beauty. Tattered clouds stretched along the arc of the sky, chasing after the slowly descending sun with weary dedication. Trees murmured to each other in their high whispering voices, eager and awake as the wind spoke through them in steady rhythms. Behind us, small spits of dust rose up, floated and disappeared in the very same puffs of air that bore the scent of late lilies.

The beginning of something beautiful was the only thing that brightened an already gorgeous day.

It was everything Rena have ever wanted......

.....Until she opened her eyes again in the morning.


End file.
